things I love

The way things come together


Since my last post it has been exactly 83 days. It was the hopeful start of this happy days project and the same day that I bought the rights to my own webpage and I was starting to feel like the cyberworld was truly my oyster. My head filled with ideas of a world in which I wrote everyday, practically spouting forth beautiful language and sage advice, gradually becoming more and more famous until I transformed into blogger and cheese-guru.

And then (in spite of these completely realistic dreams), life happened.

Things got busy, days and weeks passed, and the more time I put between myself and this blog, the harder it was to sit down and start writing again. The truth is, I love writing and I love taking photos and I love musing about things. Sometimes publicly, and sometimes just in my own weird brain. In a lot of ways, this blog has been an amazing outlet for me this year, but when I think too hard about what it is I am actually doing here, it feels a bit pointless. A bit without purpose.




And so today, on a rainy Tuesday with time to kill, I told myself to get over it. To write because I want to write. To get back on the horse, if you will.



In the past three months I have made some big decisions about my next steps. I’ve accepted that I will be moving somewhere completely new and that this is both exciting and scary all at once. I’ve been reminded of how many wonderful people I am surrounded by and how lucky I am to have that kind of love and support.



And so life does goes on, in its funny way, and things pop up and things change. Today, I decided to embark on another baking project (on yes, a Tuesday afternoon, like I said I’m in a weird-in-between time folks) and I was pleasantly surprised, as I always am when it comes to baking, to remember the beautiful way in which things come together.

Beautiful Things: The sun and the smell of a book

Another Friday afternoon, another seat in the sun. This week I am not sitting at Powell’s (although yes, I did stop by there this afternoon) as I write this blog post. I am sitting on the seat of our tiny little front “porch” and the sun is still out even though it is almost 7:00pm and I do not hate it this time. I do not hate it at all. I am a delightfully normal temperature and the sun along with the recent spring weather has been kind of a life changer. IMG_4287IMG_3260
Although it snows a lot more in Maine and rains in Portland, I have decided that I think Maine and Oregon winters are more similar than most would like to think. There is the same grey weariness. The same feeling of extreme jubilation when the sun does finally come out again. I remember sitting outside on Colby’s campus soaking in the sun during the spring not just because it felt warm but because I actually felt as if my body was absorbing some much needed nutrients. It was regaining life again.

As I was sauntering back to the bus stop after my Powell’s visit on this beautiful, sunny, spring Friday afternoon I was feeling the usual “I’m-Leah-and-I-just-bought-a-new-book” self-satisfied smugness. I just get unbelievably excited to open a new book. There is so much anticipation, so much build-up. So much potential. I feel jittery inside.

I am realizing now, as I write this, that these are all things most normal people might use to describe their feelings about a new relationship. Unbelievably excited. Anticipation. Potential. The jitters. The fact that I equate these feelings with the relationship I have with my books is potentially extremely odd but also speaks to the magnitude of my feelings for them. IMG_3259
A new book is just a beautiful thing. As I was standing at the bus stop waiting for the 8 bus to arrive (another inanimate object with which I have a relationship, albeit one that is not nearly as clear cut and adoring), I pulled out the new book to start reading. I just couldn’t help myself. It was at this moment that I realized that whenever I start a new book, I do four things.

1) Run my hands across its cover. Look at the front, look at the back. Take a moment to feel its sheer physical presence in my hands.
2) Quickly glance over a few of the quoted reviews featured on the back cover or the first couple inside pages. This really helps add to the build-up and anticipation.
3) Do you remember way back when we learned about using books as resources in the library at school? There is this little index on the page with all the publishing information in a book and there you can find a section that has numbered categories specifying the different genres or themes that that particular novel fits into. I don’t know why this is something that I even remember exists, and I really don’t know why I always read it but I do.
4) I always always smell my book. Today at the bus stop I had a brief moment where I thought “maybe you should hold off on the smelling since you are in a public place and there are people around” but I did it anyways. IMG_3270 IMG_3271
Sometimes we just need to sit in the sun and say thank you for existing, thank you for coming back into my life. And sometimes, you just need to stick your nose in a book and inhale. It’s the little beautiful things.

My love affair with the sandwich

Well, let’s just say this has been a long time coming. I’ve hinted at it. I’ve made allusions. But if you haven’t picked up on it already, let me just tell it straight — the greatest love affair of my life to date has probably been with the sandwich.

Turkey? Yes please. Dijon mustard? Oh yeah. Tomatoes? Cucumber? Sprouts? Bagel sandwich? MELTED CHEESE? Yes to all of the above and more. IMG_0485
The thing that’s so great about the sandwich is its incredible potential. So much lies between those two slices of bread. I will revel in the buttery texture of a ripe avocado and the tingling spicy sensation you feel in your nostrils after applying too much Dijon mustard. When confronted with a plethora of ingredients and extra toppings, I simply just cannot say no.

Because I was an English major in college, and by nature just a very thoughtful and overly analytical person, one day as I was thinking about my love for the sandwich I asked myself: what does this mean? 

This is probably where most of you will stop reading, lean back from your computer screen, and say who is this girl? Why can’t she just enjoy a tasty sandwich without thinking too much about what it means? Go ahead, take some time to shake your head in confusion.IMG_1114
Back now? Let me just say: I can enjoy a sandwich simply for what it is.

But I also know that I love the sandwich in the same way I love life – stuffed. Full. Brimming with too many things that set your senses off. I just always want to taste and see and smell and have it all.

This all being said, I hope that my somewhat-cliched-sandwich-life-awakening moment doesn’t taint your next eating experience. I hope you don’t pause every time you take a bite and worry about whether or not you should have added the sprouts and what this does or doesn’t mean about your personality.

Just enjoy it. And above all else, please make sure you’ve got some kind of cheese on there. And maybe just a little bacon.IMG_2881

11 Abbreviated Love Poems



On one of my most recent expeditions to Powell’s books, (a place that calls itself a mere bookstore but really, is a mecca for all book-lovers, a cavernous, multi-floor building with books practically seeping out of the shelves) I did my usual routine. Walk in. Stand in awe and complete bliss for a brief moment. Commence making my way around the store, saving the poetry and fiction sections for last – like saving the last bite of your meal, to truly savor it.

I inevitably always end up walking out with one or two extra books in addition to the one I went there with the purpose to purchase. What can I say? I have a serious addiction. During this last trip I picked up Adrienne Rich’s The Dream of a Common Language. More poetry to fill my bookshelves and my brain. What can I say? Another one of my addictions.

While I am still making my way through this beautiful book, her series “21 Love Poems” struck me in particular. The honest mix of lyricism and inquiry strike me as completely human. I fall into these words, I bathe in them:

“Sleeping, turning in turn like planets
rotating in their midnight meadow:
a touch is enough to let us know
we’re not alone in the universe, even in sleep:
the dream-ghosts of two worlds
walking their ghost-towns, almost address each other.”

Since I am no Adrienne Rich and since it is a Saturday morning I felt inspired to write my own abbreviated love poems. It may have turned into more of a list of things I love. Call it what you will.IMG_2247
1) Sunsets.
I know they are cliched but they never get old for me. As an avid-sunset-watcher I have learned two important things about sunsets which I will now share with you: 1) the best sunsets have more clouds, and 2) they’re always better after the sun disappears below the horizon line.

2) The sun on the wall in the morning.
It will always surprise you.

3) Friends.
Surround yourself with people you love and you will always be happy.

4) Hot dogs.
They are perfect and I love them. IMG_1098IMG_1101

5) Cookbooks.
They are a subset of my book-buying addiction and I think they are not only useful but beautiful.

6) Inspirational quotes.
As a product of my inspirational-quote-decorating mother and inspirational-sport-quotes father, I am a hybrid of all things inspiring. They’re cheesy and yet they still get me every time. IMG_2426

7) The state of Maine.
The lobster rolls. The coast. The fall. The way the air smells. The no traffic. Everything about it, I love. IMG_2396IMG_0139IMG_1147

8) The smell of garlic on my hands.
I don’t know what this says about me but unlike most people, I like the way the smell of garlic lingers, the way my hands smell like they’ve been in the kitchen. And I swear, I do wash them.

9) Large sweaters.
Another one of my buying addictions.

10) Eating. And taking pictures of the things I’m eating.
As if this wasn’t obvious enough already.IMG_2151 IMG_2161

11) A Saturday afternoon snuggled on the couch reading a book or watching a movie with something baking in the kitchen.
Taking comfort in the slow weekends and the blanket tucked around your legs.

What makes your love list?